Reasons why it's probably best never to go on holiday in the first place

So, I had a week in Tenby. (NO, I hear you say!  You never DID!)

Now I've had a week back at work.

And I've been comparing the two.

I will tell you some of the differences.  But only some, because if I think about this for too long, I will need to pour myself another measure of neat meths and crushed glass, and I've already had three.

Mornings

When I woke up to Tenby's dawn chorus, I thought, like Wordsworth would've, 'Oh, how the sound of that bird enriches my soul.'  Last Monday, first day back at work, I thought, 'I'd like to fry that blackbird in some very hot oil'.

When in Tenby, I had refreshing sleep and woke up each morning convinced I was a real person who could move and breathe and stretch and get up.  Last Monday morning, when the alarm went off for work, I realised this was not true.  I was really a log.

Lunches

In Tenby, lunchtimes lasted from half an hour to five hours.  Sometimes they started at 10.30 or finished at 7 in the evening.  Sometimes I had fish and chips and apple crumble with custard.  Sometimes a full three course meal with wine and chocolates.  Sometimes three rum and raisin icecreams and a Snickers.  (Sometimes I had indigestion.)

At work, lunchtimes have lasted from 35 seconds to 47 seconds.  Sometimes I had crackers with soft cheese.  Sometimes I had crackers with hard cheese.  Sometimes I had crackers with marmalade, if there was no cheese in the fridge.  Sometimes I had crackers which didn't crack because I had to leave them until the end of the day and they went 'thwup' when I bit into them.  (At work, I'd kneel and beg for a chance of indigestion.)

Newspapers


In Tenby, I read not just the news but all the back pages with the 'Nature Notes You're Not Really Interested In', the 'Scrabble Challenge You Don't Understand', the 'Extremely Impractical Recipe for the Day With Rocket and Hand-Carved Sausage' and the 'What the Queen and All Her Relations Have Been Doing' columns.

When at work, the only newspaper I have seen this week was the one the man on the bench outside my departmental office was reading.  Yes, that man who had his legs stretched out and who was spending a good ten minutes on each page before leisurely turning over.  That man whose head nearly had my stapler, hole punch and copy of The Complete Austen thrown at it.

The weather


In Tenby, the warm sun was a friendly yellow ball in the sky, a friend, an ally, something to be thankful for.  The absence of rain was a blessing.

While I've been working this week, the warm sun has been a malicious entity, oozing yellow spite from its core, something to swear at.  I would have welcomed rain, especially if it had fallen on that man's newspaper and made it the same consistency as my end-of-day crackers.




Oh, Tenby, Tenby, Tenby.  You made me love you, even though I didn't wanna do it, I didn't wanna do it.  You made me love you, and all the time you knew it, I bet you always knew it.

And a week back at work has only confirmed how I feel about you.